


see you distract me, but i'm distracted without you

by jazzclubbed



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Getting Together, Kissing Games, Living Together, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, The Pocky Game, Third Gym (Haikyuu!!)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:57:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9839474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzclubbed/pseuds/jazzclubbed
Summary: In the end, it was their competitiveness that did them in. That and the strawberry-flavoured Pocky Bokuto had unearthed on a 2am grocery run to their ethereal 24h supermarket. The one they’d all decided was probably a portal to another dimension.Look, the sticks wereheart shaped. What else were they supposed to do? Eat it like regular people and pass up the opportunity for greatness?Not likely.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from helplessly by tatiana manaois (and is completely unrelated to this fic)

Bokuto crowed in triumph, holding it high above his head like Indiana Jones finding the holy grail. 

"No." Tsukishima and Akaashi said at the exact same time. Akaashi was rubbing his eyes, dressed in one of Bokuto's sweaters and a pair of worn-out, grey sweatpants that somehow still looked perfect on him. Bokuto really wanted to kiss him. This wasn't new. Bokuto felt an urge to kiss his boyfriend pretty much all the time.

Tsukishima himself was huddled in his ‘fuck this’ coat, or what Bokuto liked to call the ‘secret-flasher’ coat, a soft khaki cardigan so long it would drag on the ground if worn by shorter, lesser mortals, and he was glaring at the florescent lights like they'd personally offended him. Which they probably had, considering their artificial, glaring lure was what had dragged Bokuto and Kuroo out to find some potato chips in the first place, which made Akaashi feel obliged to come with them so that they wouldn't overspend (again) which, in turn, brought Tsukishima—probably so that Akaashi could have someone who would answer his eyerolls with sympathetic, Olympian eye-rolling of his own. That's what Bokuto figured, at least. Tsukki and Akaashi had gotten really close since all four of them had moved in together. He'd seen it coming, really; with Kuroo and Bokuto’s combined bro-ing, pranking and general loudness, it was only to be expected that the ones who were more drawn to peace and quiet would be drawn to, well, each other. 

"Woah, nice!" Kuroo had been in another aisle looking at biscuits, but upon hearing Bokuto’s triumphant shouts, he had charged down to their aisle in record time to inspect the newest loot. Out of the corner of his eye, Bokuto saw his boyfriend lean on Tsukishima's chest with a tired sigh, and smiled fondly at the way Akaashi's eyelashes were dropping. He was so cute when he was tired. 

“Bo, you struck gold! It's heart-shaped." Kuroo said in a reverent hush, shoving the packaging into Bokuto's face like he'd found an easter egg in his favourite video game. 

“I know! It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Besides those cats from last week, of course.” Bokuto grinned over the box, his eyes meeting his best friend's, and a thought seemed to occur to both of them at the exact same time. 

“Pocky game." It was said in complete, unrehearsed unison. Across the aisle, Tsukki and Akaashi both froze. 

“ _No._ ” The other two echoed back, almost creepy in the way the menacing tones in their voice were so similar. For a few, brief moments, Bokuto saw Kuroo balk at the pure murder emanating from them, a glint of fear in Kuroo's eyes that was no doubt echoed in his own.

The stalemate continued. Bokuto and Kuroo had an entire conversation in subtle eye and facial movements, and finished it off with a terse, businesslike nod. 

“We're buying it." Bokuto said firmly. In support, Kuroo snagged another packet off the shelf, clutching onto it like it was an extra life. 

Bokuto saw the frown on Tsukki's face and immediately knew it wasn't going to be that easy. So before Tsukki could even finish opening his mouth in protest, he grabbed Kuroo's hand and ran, howls of laughter trailing behind them.

 _Thank god for best-bro telepathy_ , Bokuto thought, as they rushed through the deserted supermarket to the checkout counters. Akaashi and Tsukki probably didn’t have the energy to chase after them. It was 2 in the morning, after all, and Bokuto reckoned this didn't matter enough to warrant any sort of high speed chase action. They screeched to a stop at the checkout, unharmed, just like he'd thought, Kuroo's hand still clutched tight in his, waiting long enough to place the Pocky gently down on the conveyor belt before Bokuto turned to him and wrapped him in a congratulatory, exhilarated hug. Normal stuff. The usual. Just two besties being bros.

So why did Bokuto feel his chest swoop at Kuroo's unfiltered, unmasked grin of happiness? Why did Bokuto have the urge to grab his best friend's hand again and never let go, to sweep kisses across Kuroo's knuckles and then feather more near the dent of his dimples, the crook of his smile?

The last beep of the scanned candy brought him to his senses, and he took a step back, trying not to think about how cold he suddenly felt without Kuroo's breathless warmth. No time to think about that anymore. The Pocky was theirs. That was what mattered. 

 

–––––

 

It had only been a day after the Pocky had been bought, and Tsukishima Kei already wanted death. 

He had no qualms against romantic shit, or whatever. He had no qualms against Pocky itself. He even had no qualms against his boyfriend and his boyfriend's best friend dragging them out, in the cold, at ass in the morning and buying out the weirdest shit in the store instead of doing so in the daytime like normal people. 

What he did have qualms against, however, was his boyfriend and his boyfriend's best friend and—whatever the fuck it was they were trying to pull with this—this unmitigated, unnecessary, unappreciated candy-aided disaster. 

“That's not how the fucking game works," he finally snapped, after the thousandth suggestive eyebrow waggle from Kuroo. “If I’m fine with kissing you, it really isn't that much of a deal." 

Instead of what Tsukishima had wanted to happen, which was his boyfriend dropping the subject, quietly eating the strawberry sticks and never talking about any of it ever again, Kuroo's smirk instead got even wider, like he knew exactly what Tsukishima was trying not to admit to himself.

“Oh hoh hoh?"

“Suck a fucking dick, Tetsurou."

At that, his smirk reached intolerable proportions. Tsukishima really, really wanted to wipe it off his face. Or kiss it off. Maybe both at the same time. His feelings towards his infuriating, terrible boyfriend were confusing. 

“Is that what you were angling for, Tsukki? You should've just asked!" Kuroo sang, opening the box and taking out another one, his tongue peeking out to meet the stick before his lips closed around it, his teeth sucking the strawberry-flavoured coating out first and leaving excess in the divot where the top of the heart-shaped stick curved into itself. It was the grossest thing Tsukishima had ever witnessed. The fact that an overwhelming, entirely unwelcome wave of fondness simultaneously washed over him was entirely unrelated. He narrowed his eyes. 

“Didn't need to ask two nights ago, did I.” he challenged, crossing his arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“So that's why you were so loud? Ah-hah, I knew it!" Bokuto's voice rang out from the living room, where he was currently scrolling through Netflix. Tsukishima had discovered two months into living with Bokuto that he could _never_ decide what to watch. Ever. He’d look through everything, hemming and hawing, until he eventually went back to the buddycop show everyone knew he was going to choose in the first place. Tsukishima hated his life. 

“Bokuto-san. Please stop." Akaashi's interjection saved him the trouble of bothering to dignify Bokuto's comment with a response, and Tsukishima felt the same wave of fondness towards Akaashi too—not for the first time. 

(His feelings towards his two other roommates were also complicated. He didn't like talking about it unless he was more drunk than a drowning man, and that had only happened a handful of times, with Kuroo.)

Kuroo snapped off half the stick, leaning over to balance it in Tsukishima’s mouth, poking it in slightly so it would stay. He grinned like he knew Tsukishima’s resolve was crumbling. Appeased for now, Tsukishima bit into it, licking off the coating like an actual, rational human being. _Take that, Kuroo Tetsurou,_ he thought, nibbling at the rest of the stick delicately.

He was, in fact, so set on trying to show Kuroo the normal way to eat the goddamn sugar sticks that he didn't see the gears turning in Kuroo’s head until it was much, much too late. 

“Kei, baby, are you saying you wouldn't play the Pocky game with me?" Kuroo batted his eyelashes in a poor initiation of pleading sadness, and Tsukishima stifled the smile that had curled the edges of his mouth at the sight. Stupid Kuroo with his stupid cute face.

“Firstly, don’t call me ‘baby’ ever again, unless you want to die. And yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. It's just not how the Pocky game is supposed to be played." If it was ever played in real life, ever. Tsukishima doubted its actual existence outside of shoujo manga cliches. 

Kuroo's eyes lit up like a cat who'd got the cream, and Tsukishima immediately knew he'd fucked up. 

“Alright then. Akaashi. Do it with Akaashi!"

 _Fucking hell._

Fine. If Kuroo was trying to make something happen, Tsukishima wasn’t going to stop him. Quite the opposite. 

They'd all been dancing around each other for far too long, anyway.

 

–––––

 

At the mention of his name, Akaashi had looked up from his book, just in time to see Kuroo's arm sweep grandly to point at Akaashi’s usual spot on the couch. Even with Tsukishima's back to him, he could already tell his friend had stiffened up, and if he was the betting sort he'd bet good money Tsukishima looked downright terrifying right now. 

Akaashi's heart sank without permission at how obvious it was that Tsukishima was uncomfortable with the thought of kissing him, but he tried his best to ignore it. He was happy with Bokuto, and he didn't want anything to change that. But sometimes he couldn't help but watch Tsukishima as he laughed, or be rendered speechless at the sight of his friend wandering into the kitchen in the morning, groggy and coffee-deprived, with the sunlight hitting his blonde hair just right and softly diffusing against his skin as he sat at the dinner table. And living with Kuroo was no better. Akaashi thinks that he would've lived his life just fine if he hadn't had to be burdened by how utterly adorable—ridiculous it was that Kuroo never brushed his hair, but would spend at least half an hour choosing his clothes, or how he looked sleeping on the couch with his shirt rucked up slightly, exhausted after trying to finish a paper. At least with Bokuto when he had the urge to kiss him, to feel those lips against his and taste that smile for himself, he could just do it. Having a crush on your other two gay, dating roommates was a special sort of hell. 

Akaashi blinked back into reality as he heard Tsukishima's incredulous, biting laugh. He couldn’t believe they were still arguing about this.

“You’re the one who wants to play it so much.”

“I mean, if it has to be someone you don’t kiss all the time, or rather, not me? Akaashi’s your best bet." Kuroo's voice had an undertone to it, like there was a specific meaning he wanted Tsukishima to get. Akaashi didn’t understand. 

“Hey, what about me! Kiss me, kiss me!” Bokuto interrupted from the couch. Akaashi rolled his eyes and stretched out his legs, tucking his feet under Bokuto’s warm thighs.

“If you wanted to be kissed, Bokuto-san, you should’ve just asked.” Akaashi teased, mirroring Kuroo’s earlier words. Bokuto grinned at him, leaning over to kiss Akaashi softly on the cheek. Before he could settle back on the couch, Akaashi grabbed his collar, placing a brief kiss on Bokuto’s lips while Kuroo and Tsukki were both still distracted with each other. Satisfied, he smiled against Bokuto’s lips, and kissed him once more, gentle as he could, before he let Bokuto sit back on the couch, his face lit up by a blinding grin. Bokuto scooted closer so that they were tucked against each other, side against side.

“Kuroo, have you even played the Pocky game before? Or at least seen it outside of a fictional context?” Tsukishima was really getting into his sarcasm now, walking out of the kitchen to sit cross-legged on top the dining room table. It was a strategic position that awarded him even more of a height difference over Kuroo. 

_Uh oh_ , Akaashi thought. The last time he’d assumed that pose, shit went _down_.

“Okay, fine, you got me. No, I haven't. But I know the rules! It’s simple enough, first person who lets go of the stick loses, right? Come on, babe, the biscuit sticks are heart-shaped! It'll be fun!"

Akaashi snorted, closing his book quietly and setting it down on a side table. “What about me? Do I get a say in my... participation?"

Without even looking, Tsukishima raised a hand in the universal symbol of _hold on, trust me._ Akaashi did not trust that hand. That hand was going to pull them all deeper into hell. He got up from the couch and moved closer, choosing instead to lean his hip against the dining table. Bokuto followed, probably also sensing something big was going to happen. Tsukishima’s eyes flashed. He was definitely up to something.

“Are you _sure_ that’s how it works?” Akaashi watched as Tsukishima raised his head in a challenging tilt, snagging another stick from Kuroo’s open box and raising it to his lips to bite at the tip. Shit. The underlying competitiveness in that glare was _not good._ Barring the fact that it was undeniably… well, hot. If Akaashi didn’t know better, he’d think Tsukishima was actually trying to make things worse.

“Are you telling me you know another way?” Kuroo smirked, stepping in closer, leaning into Tsukishima’s space and setting the box on the table. Akaashi quickly nabbed two sticks, passing one to Bokuto as they watched the scene unfold. If it wasn’t impossible for them to be aware of Akaashi and Bokuto’s eyes on them, he would’ve thought they were intruding on a private moment. As it was, the sudden heat in the room was already making itself known as Tsukishima snorted, unwrapping a leg from his crossed position to stroke it down Kuroo’s thigh. Akaashi could see Kuroo swallow from here. Was Tsukishima trying to seduce Kuroo to swing the odds in his favour?

“Playing it one-on-one isn’t hardcore. That shit’s easy. The real game is playing it in pairs. The team which has the smallest piece at the end? Wins.” 

A sudden silence. And then:

“Fuck.” 

Only after both Tsukishima and Kuroo turned to look at him did Akaashi realise he’d said that out loud.

**Author's Note:**

> i have something else i need to write that i really can't focus on so instead i wrote this at 3am last night (ps [the pocky is a real thing](https://www.amazon.com/Strawberry-Cream-Flavor-Pocky-Stick/dp/B004J5BMOA) and it tastes pretty darn good) 
> 
> also for the sake of fictional purposes, none of them have done this before. but it's actually a pretty popular thing done in japan—or at least popular enough that [wikipedia mentions it.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Konpa#Pocky_game) sorry about that!!
> 
> (there'll be kissing next chapter i promise but now i've finished this i really need to go write a goddamn play)
> 
> thank you for reading!! this is the first fic i'm posting in the haikyuu!! fandom and i'm really nervous, so if you have any thoughts i would really appreciate it!


End file.
